Excerpt The men were getting closer now. We could see their painted faces. They looked like ferocious brown warriors. Their spears glinted brightly in the lingering sunlight. Their war-like screams were blood curdling! The horses also had painted faces, ribbons with little brass bells or ostrich plumes were braided into their long manes and tails.
We took in the fearsome panoply as if in slow motion, while at the same time both motorcycles roared to life and bolted side by side up the hill, past the big wooden sign post. The galloping horses with their bareback riders were fast closing in behind us. As the painted party reached the sign, however, they abruptly halted their chase. Their steely mounts stood pawing the red dirt and shaking their massive heads in protest at the sudden end to their frenzied run.
Thoughts rushed unbidden through our minds. Why had the men stopped so suddenly? What could be the meaning of that portentous sign by the road?
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